


I Won't Put This One on Instagram

by teslatempest



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Phichit is adorable, Rated for Yuri's language, Victor and Yuuri are proud parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8862958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teslatempest/pseuds/teslatempest
Summary: “Oh. Shit.” 
Otabek sat up, a little concerned by the tone of Yuri’s voice. “Is everything alright?”
“Remember how we agreed we weren’t going to tell anyone we were dating until after this season?”
“...yes?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to yuriapproved, xreyskywalkersolo, and firegirl210 for letting me bounce ideas off and for editing this fic. You guys are awesome!
> 
> It's actually been a really long time since I've written something that I felt like was good enough to be posted, so thank you to the Yuri!!! on Ice fandom for helping me return to writing!
> 
> Disclaimer: I definitely do not own Yuri!!! on Ice, that honor belongs to Sayo Yamamoto.

Yuri wasn’t really concerned when he heard his Instagram notification go off. He just rolled over and cuddled into his boyfriend’s side, huffing softly. “Too early.” He grumbled, not even opening his eyes.

 

A soft chuckle echoed under his ear, and fingers ran through his hair. “You could turn it off.” Otabek replied quietly, clearly amused. Yuri snorted. Otabek had never really gotten into social media the way most of their friends, and Yuri himself, had.

 

Yuri’s phone chirped again, and then again. He finally sat up, the noise too annoying to ignore. “Gimme a minute, I’ll turn the stupid thing off.”

 

Otabek opened his eyes to smile as Yuri gave a quick little stretch, cracking his back. His hair, now halfway down his back, was falling out of the loose braid he slept in, and his shirt (actually Otabek’s shirt) hung loose on his frame. Almost nineteen years old, Yuri was now a couple inches taller than Otabek, but still slimmer in the shoulders.

 

Green eyes caught his as he turned, and the corner of Yuri’s mouth ticked up into a small smile. “What’re you looking at?”

 

Otabek just smiled, gratified when a faint blush appeared on Yuri’s cheeks. Then his phone chirped again, and the warm expression dropped, leaving Yuri to turn and glare at his phone. “I know, I know, I’m coming…”

 

He reached out and snagged the phone off the nightstand, sliding past the lock-screen as his Instagram popped up. Then he read the notifications.

 

“Oh. Shit.” 

 

Otabek sat up, a little concerned by the tone of Yuri’s voice. “Is everything alright?”

 

“Remember how we agreed we weren’t going to tell anyone we were dating until after this season?”

 

“...yes?”

 

Yuri wordlessly handed over the phone, eyes wide. The picture was from a dinner they had gone to a few days ago after an exhibition program in Montreal. JJ had insisted on having all the figure skaters come over for dinner and massive amounts of alcohol, and people had stayed for hours. Even though he was a self-obsessed prat, he did know how to throw a party.

 

This particular picture was from Phichit’s account, showing him taking a selfie with Mila and Sala. The reason Yuri was getting the alert was because, apparently, the photo had captured the two of them in the background, Yuri leaning against Otabek and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Otabek remembered that, Yuri had been feeling affectionate after a couple of drinks. He could have sworn no one had noticed, but clearly they had underestimated Phichit’s Instagram-selfie obsession and impeccably bad timing.  

 

“I see.” Otabek looked at Yuri, then at the photo again. “This is late for him.”

 

“He dropped his phone in the snow that night, remember? Must’ve taken him until today to back up all the photos.” He grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Dammit Phichit! This is why you check your goddamn photos!”

 

Otabek scrolled down to check the comments, his eyebrows slowly rising. 

 

_ >v-nikiforov: how could yuri not tell his papa he was dating someone?!?!?! _

 

_ >mila-babi: nice job yuri! _

 

_ >christophe-gc: oooh, they’re attractive together! _

 

_ >phichit+chu: aw, they’re so cute!!! _

 

Even as Otabek was looking, another comment was posted.

 

_ >katsukiyuuri: congratulations yuri and otabek! don’t get into too much trouble! _

 

“Oh my god, they are never going to shut up now.” Yuri grumbled, flopping back onto the bed. Otabek shot his boyfriend a look, then turned the sound off on Yuri’s phone in favor of lying down again. “We can deal with it later. It’s still only eight in the morning,” he murmured, looping an arm around Yuri and pressing a quick kiss to his neck. 

 

Yuri didn’t say anything, but he did intertwine their hands. 

 

“We’re going to have to make a statement about it.”

 

“We can do that later.”

~

 

_ They had been friends for a year and a half before it had come up.  _

 

_ Yuri wasn’t entirely obsessed with skating anymore, and he was a healthy sixteen-year-old boy. So he had noticed for several months that Otabek was...really good looking. Under the stoicism was a calm determination and a surprisingly wicked sense of humor. He never pushed Yuri to be something other than himself, and it was...nice. They didn’t get to see each other in person much, with their training programs being in different countries, but they texted and skyped regularly, and when they were in the same country they made it a point to hang out.  _

 

_ They had been training in America when he’d finally gotten up the courage to say it. They were sharing an apartment during the training camp, and Yuri was making stroganoff while Otabek was making pierogis.  _

 

_ “Is it weird for me to think you’re really good looking?” He blurted out, then he realized what he had just said before clapping his hand over his mouth. “Shit, sorry, that came out wrong, shit-” _

 

_ Otabek set down his knife, then looked at Yuri so calmly that the Russian teen was able to make himself stop swearing.  _

 

_ “I think you’re good looking too.” He stated, as calmly as if he was saying it was sunny outside. Despite his tone, his fingers were tapping against the counter in a nervous rhythm.  _

 

_ Yuri blinked, quickly shoving a strand of hair out of his face. “Oh. Seriously?”  _

 

_ Otabek smiled faintly, though his fingers were still tapping. “Seriously,” he replied. _

 

_ Yuri furiously bit back any urge to squeal or otherwise do anything embarrassing. Apparently Otabek liked him too...so why wasn’t he doing anything? Usually at this point there should be kissing, right? _ __  
  


_ (That was probably a sign that he had been spending too much time with Victor and Yuuri again. Shit.) _

 

_ “Should we be doing something about that then?” Yuri asked, then slapped his forehead as he felt his face get hot. Why was he so bad at this?! _

 

_ When he was able to meet Otabek’s eyes again, he was confused to see that Otabek was smiling...almost wistfully.  _

 

_ “You’re 16, and I turned 19 last month.”  _

 

_ “Yeah, I remember,” Yuri replied, confused about where this was going. They had skyped for hours until the early morning, and Yakov had been ticked when Yuri had shown up exhausted the next day.  _

 

_ “We also spend a lot of time on international television.”  _

 

_ Yuri blew out a frustrated breath. 90% of the time, Otabek was almost overly blunt, but there were times like this where he would dance around the subject until Yuri figured it out. “So what?” _

 

_ “The legal age of consent in most countries is 18.” _

 

_ Yuri blinked as it suddenly clicked in his head. “Wait, seriously? Are you worried about that?” _

 

_ “I don’t want to damage your career or your reputation.” Otabek replied calmly, returning to the pierogis. “You are my friend, and that is important to me.” He glanced at Yuri, something akin to nervousness appearing on his face. “I do want to date in the future, if that is acceptable.”  _

 

_ Yuri’s breath caught. He was a little annoyed, but at the same time… _

 

_ “Yeah, I can live with that,” Yuri finally replied, turning back to the stroganoff. “Sucks that you’re waiting for me though.” _

 

_ “Many of the best things are worth waiting for.” _

 

_ Yuri dropped the spoon into the stroganoff and almost knocked the pot off the stove, then turned to glare at the smiling man. “Holy shit, where the hell did you learn to be that smooth?” _

 

_ Otabek chuckled softly, and Yuri sighed and shook his head before smiling himself.  _

 

_ Yeah, he could wait for this. _

~

 

When they showed up at the rink the next day, there was actually clapping from the other skaters, and they were ambushed by the triplets.

 

“Yuri is this your boyfriend?”

 

“He’s got great scores!”

 

“Do you take him on good dates?”

 

“Axel, Loop, Lutz, for goodness sake leave them alone!” Nishigori Yuuko yelled at her daughters, before turning back to Yuri and Otabek with a bright smile. “Although really, congratulations to both of you!”

 

Yuri reminded himself that he did actually enjoy talking to Yuuko, and she would be ticked if he cursed at her kids, even if they really deserved it. “Thanks,” he managed to get out through grit teeth. Otabek just smiled, though didn’t respond. He once had admitted to Yuri that the triplets were a bit intimidating. Yuri would have laughed if he didn’t agree wholeheartedly.

 

These were the girls who, at six years of age, had helped organize a skating competition and get it national coverage. He was a little terrified about what they’d start getting up to once they hit puberty.

 

“Otabek! Yuri!” Both skaters rocked back as a small figure threw himself at them, Yuri almost falling backwards. Kenjirou Minami rocked back on his heels, grinning brightly. “You should’ve told us, we could do group dates!”

 

Before either skater could reply, arms wrapped around Yuri and swung him around. “Yuri, I’m so proud of you for discovering love!” 

 

Oh god. Freaking Victor, who was practically squealing like a teenager. 

 

“You’re growing up so quickly! Such a happy day!”

 

“Oh my god Victor, you’re embarrassing yourself!” Yuri snapped, trying to wriggle out of his surprisingly strong grip. 

 

“Aw, it’s cute Yuri!”

 

Shit. Yuuri was leaning against the wall of the rink, grinning his stupid shit-eating smirky grin that he got whenever he got particularly good blackmail on someone. Clearly his fangirls were all blind, because Yuuri was definitely not ‘innocent and naive’ the way they seemed to think he was. 

 

Yuri was finally able to get away from Victor and stumbled away, taking deep breaths. Otabek smiled sympathetically, gently patting his back. 

 

“What did I do to deserve this?” Yuri grumbled. 

 

“Do you want the list chronologically, or alphabetically?” Yuuri retorted, still looking massively amused. 

 

Yuri made sure that the triplets weren’t around before flipping him off and then stomping off to put on his skates. Otabek, who was congratulated normally, like a normal person, was already on the ice, skating in slow, easy warm-up circles. 

 

The Russian fell in line with him, skating alongside his boyfriend, happy to ignore everyone else for awhile.

~

 

_ Even though they weren’t dating, Yuri decided that he needed to tell his grandfather about possible future developments in his life. Nikolai Plisetsky had always been supportive of everything Yuri had done, but Yuri knew that his grandfather had certain things he was very...traditional about.  _

 

_ The last thing Yuri wanted to do was accidently give his grandfather a heart attack later on because he was dating another boy.  _

 

_ Still, he had no idea how to bring it up. He tried to practice with Sasha, but cats didn’t really give good feedback, and he wasn’t really sure who else to talk to about this.  _

 

_ “Yuratchka, what is the matter?”  _

 

_ Yuri jumped, almost dropping the plate he was drying. “Huh? What?” _

 

_ Nikolai’s eyebrow went up as he washed out the pot. “You’ve been too quiet the last few days Yuratchka. You have something on your mind?”  _

 

_ Yuri paused, dish in one hand and cloth in the other. This was the chance he’d been waiting for.  _

 

_ It was still nerve-wracking though. _

 

_ “Yeah.” He finally got out, setting down the dish and drying his hands, staring at the counter. If he looked at his grandfather directly, he wasn’t going to be able to speak. “I, um...I might have a crush?” His voice went up near the end, making him sound uncertain and he wanted to cuss.  _

 

_ “Oh? Is that so?” Nikolai replied, shutting off the water. He sounded a bit amused, so that was a good sign, right? “Is it that Mila girl who likes to tease you?” _

 

_ “Hell no!” Yuri yelped, turning to finally look at his grandfather. “She’s like my sister, that would be weird!”  _

 

_ Nikolai held up his hands, grinning. “Alright alright, no need to get defensive with your old grandpa! So who is the lucky young woman?” _

 

_ Shit. Here it was. Yuri swallowed and looked down again.  _

 

_ “...Otabek Altin. The skater from Kazakhstan.” He finally murmured, twisting the towel in his hands.  _

 

_ Silence for a beat. Then- _

 

_ “Oh, alright.”  _

 

_ The water turned on again, and Yuri looked up as his grandfather as he returned to washing dishes. Was that it? _

 

_ “How old is he again? He’s younger than Nikiforov, right?” _

 

_ Yuri rolled his eyes, unable to help himself. “Yes Grandpa, Otabek is younger than Victor. He’s nineteen.” He picked up the dripping pot, slowly drying it. “You’re ok with it?” _

 

_ “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” The older man added, sounding genuinely puzzled. Then his brows furrowed. “Unless you are already dating him? You are a bit too young for that Yuratchka, I would appreciate it if you waited-” _

 

_ “We’re not dating Grandpa!” Yuri exclaimed, his cheeks bright red. “...Otabek brought up the same thing, so we’re gonna talk about it later.” He grumbled, drying the pot ferociously.  _

 

_ Nikolai Plisetsky relaxed, a smile returning to his face. “He sounds like a good boy. You will bring him over for dinner next time he is in Russia.”  _

 

_ “Yes sir.” Yuri replied dryly, setting the pot aside and picking up the next plate. Relief coursed through him, and after he set down the plate, and wrapped his arms around the bigger man and hugged him tightly. “Thank you Grandpa.” _

 

_ Strong arms wrapped around him and hugged him just as tightly. “I love you too Yuratchka.” _

~

 

Sometimes, Yuri thought that the Katsuki family were nice, kind people, who just made delicious food and liked running their little hot spring. 

 

And then he remembered that this was the family that spawned Yuuri. 

 

“Sit sit, you both need to eat!” Hiroko exclaimed, her eyes practically sparkling as she pushed Otabek and Yuri to set at the low table, Yuuri and Mari already bringing out massive katsudon bowls. Victor was smiling brightly, scratching behind Makkachin’s ears and making sure Katya, the new puppy, wasn’t eating anyone’s shoes. 

 

“It’s so nice to meet you Otabek, we’re happy that Yuri could bring you over!” 

 

“I got threatened to bring him over.” Yuri growled, crossing his arms and trying to ignore the delicious smell of the pork cutlet bowl. Stupid tasty pork cutlet bowl. 

 

“Thank you.” Otabek stated as Mari set the bowl in front of him. She grinned at him as she took her own seat, picking up her chopsticks as Hiroko settled herself as well. 

 

“So how long have the two of you been dating? Nobody knew!” Victor asked, eyes practically sparkling with manic delight. 

 

“That’s because some people understand discretion and don’t have their first kiss on fucking international television!” Yuri yelled back, only to get swatted on the back of the head. 

 

“Language!” Mari scolded, pouring herself a small cup of plum wine. Yuuri laughed, then turned back to the younger man. “Really though, how long have you two been dating?”

 

Yuri took a big bite of pork to refuse to answer, instead opting to watch Otabek try pork cutlet bowls for this first time. The Kazakhstani man didn’t have as much experience with chopsticks, but didn’t seem to have too much trouble picking up a piece. He took the bite, his expression staying the same as he chewed and swallowed before turning to Hiroko. “It’s very good.”

 

“Thank you! It’s Yuuri’s favorite, but everyone likes katsudon!”

 

“That’s because katsudon is delicious.” Yuuri retorted, happily digging into his own bowl. 

 

“Yuuri can’t eat too many of them, otherwise he gets fat in like two weeks.” Yuri teased, grinning a little evilly. Maybe he was being a little mean, but Yuuri deserved it dammit!   
  


Yuuri just rolled his eyes and got an evil grin of his own. “Otabek, did you know that Yuri calls himself the Ice Tiger of Russia?”

 

“Shut up! You promised you’d never bring that up again!”

 

“That was before you got yourself a boyfriend and brought him home.” Yuuri replied practically. Victor nodded ferociously in agreement. “It’s practically our job to tease you Yurio, that’s what family is for!”

 

“Ugh, then I need a new family…”

 

Warmth covered his hand, and Yuri looked over to see that Otabek had reached out and was gently holding Yuri’s hand, a small smile on his face as he continued to eat. Yuri smiled back, despite himself. 

 

“Aww…”

 

“Just eat your dinner Yuuri, give Yurio a bit of space.”

 

“Yurio isn’t my name dammit!”

~

 

_ It had been months since he’d been able to see Otabek. Yakov had retired, so Yuri had decided to sign on and get Victor as a coach, and since Victor was based in Japan now, Yuri had moved to Japan while Otabek had stayed in Almaty. The bigger time difference had made skyping harder, but they still managed it.  _

 

_ By some stroke of luck, they had both been assigned to the same first event in the Grand Prix series 2019, at Skate London. Yuri had arrived a few days earlier in an attempt to beat the jet lag, and Otabek was supposed to be arriving early as well.  _

 

_ Which was why Yuri was in the waiting area of Heathrow airport, playing with his phone and glancing at the arrivals gate regularly.  _

 

_ Yuri sighed and glanced around. Airports were always so loud and busy, and when he had arrived it had been dumping rain. He’d had to wring out his hair, and his pants were drenched. When he had walked into the arrivals terminal, he had slid and almost fallen on his ass three times. Why had he come again? _

 

_ Well...London was confusing, and Otabek had never been in England before, and he had even had to come in before his coach could, so he was alone. It made sense to make sure he made it to the hotel! _

 

_ The next time he looked up, Otabek’s flight was listed on the arrivals screen. Yuri bounced to his feet, coming over to stand closer to the door to the terminal. People kept coming through, a loud American family, a group of orthodox Jewish men, a massive tour group from China… _

 

_ There he was. Otabek was pulling a large suitcase behind him, looking rumpled and confused as he came through the doors.  _

 

_ “Oy, Altin!” Yuri called, waving his hand in the air as he bounced to his toes.  _

 

_ Otabek looked over, and he caught sight of Yuri quickly. A smile spread across Otabek’s face as he walked over, a little faster than before, until he was standing in front of Yuri.  _

 

_ He looked tired, was Yuri’s first thought before smacking himself. He’d just arrived from an eight-hour plane ride, of course he was tired. Even more surprising though, was the fact that Yuri was now eye-to-eye with him.  _

 

_ Maybe growth spurts weren’t too bad.  _

 

_ “Hi Otabek,” he greeted casually, rocking back on his heels. “Glad you made it in safe.”  _

 

_ “It’s very good to see you Yuri.”  _

 

_ Yuri would forever deny that he blushed faintly, before nodding towards the exit. “Let’s head to the hotel, the sooner we get there the better. Heathrow is annoying. Do you need food?” He quickly asked.  _

 

_ Otabek nodded, and Yuri smiled. “There’s a couple really good sandwich shops on the way to the hotel, we can stop in there and grab something to tide you over until dinner. The coffee is shit though.” Yuri added as he snagged Otabek’s hand to keep track of him in the crowd.  _

 

_ “I will remember that.” The older man replied, sounding faintly bemused. Yuri looked back over his shoulder to make sure that he wasn’t about to make Otabek run into anyone.  _

 

_ They got closer to the door, and Yuri paused. If anything, it looked like the rain had gotten worse. Actual sheets of water were running down the sidewalk, and he actually saw a car hydroplane.  _

 

_ “Huh. Maybe we should wait a bit. You ok with that?” Yuri asked quickly. Otabek nodded. “My luggage is not waterproof. I would rather not soak my costumes.”  _

 

_ “Ok.” Yuri glanced around. There wasn’t much, but he did spot a stand for something called a pasty, which looked like a weird-ass British version of a pirozhki, but it was better than nothing. He looked back at Otabek, seeing how tired and pale he looked. “You snag one of the tables, I’ll grab us something.” _

 

_ “I can do that.” Otabek smiled at that point, eyebrow slightly raised. “I will need my hand back though.” _

 

_ Blood rushed to Yuri’s cheeks as he realized that he had been holding Otabek’s hand the entire time. He quickly let go and looked up, just in time to see a faint hint of a blush on Otabek’s cheeks as well, though it was less noticeable on him.  _

 

_ “Right, um...I’ll be right back.” Yuri said quickly, practically running towards the stand. He only got a few steps though when the wet floor caught him off guard, and his feet slid out from under him, throwing him on his butt in front of everyone.  _

 

_ “Yuri!” Otabek rushed over, being much more careful not to fall. His eyes were wide with concern. “Are you hurt?” _

 

_ “...I think I bruised my ass, but I’m ok.” Yuri clapped a hand over his face, knowing he was blushing, how much uncool could you be after being the idiot who ate shit on the wet floor?! _

 

_ Movement caught his eye through his fingers, and when he dropped his hand he saw that Otabek had his hand out to help him up. “I am glad you are not hurt.” He said simply, a quiet look of relief on his face.  _

 

_ Reaching out, still bright red, Yuri took his hand and pushed himself up. Otabek pulled a bit harder than expected, and Yuri ended up taking a couple of steps forward, putting him almost nose-to-nose with the other man.  _

 

_ They both froze. The moment seemed to hang as they looked into each other's’ eyes, hands clasped, the faintest warmth of breath between them… _

 

_ Reality seemed to rush back in with a loud crash. Both skaters jumped and looked to the left, to see a man apologizing to his girlfriend for crashing the cart into a pillar and dropping her suitcase into a puddle.  _

 

_ This time Otabek let go first, carefully straightening and taking a step back. The flush was still on his cheeks, and his eyes seemed to drink Yuri in. “Perhaps I should get that table.” _

 

_ It took Yuri a minute, but then he nodded. “Right, yeah, table. I’ll, uh, grab those pasty-thingies.” _

 

_ Yuri made his way to the stand, getting both of them chicken pasties (so weird looking), eventually joining Otabek at the small table he had claimed. The two of them sat and watched the crowds, talking about coaches and skating and mutual friends.  _

 

_ They didn’t talk about the moment they had shared, but they both remembered it. _

~

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

 

Otabek glanced up from where he was pouring the last of the soup into the tupperware. “Everything alright?”

 

Yuri looked up with frustrated eyes. “Why are my fangirls the insane ones? Yours are calm and chill, Yuuri’s just all squeal over how ‘cute’ he is, even JJ’s act kind of normal! Hell, even Christophe’s are mature! Why do I have the crazy ones?!” 

 

Yuri smacked his head down on the table and held the phone up for Otabek to see the article that had been linked to Facebook. 

 

_ >NOOOOOO YURATCHKA HAS A BOYFRIEND I WANTED TO MARRY HIM!!!!!!!!! _

 

_ >Dammit, why is it always the cute ones?! _

 

_ >YUUUUUURA WHY?! _

 

_ >Maybe they’ll both do a picture with cat ears! _

 

_        >that would b so kawaii!!!!! _

 

_ >Are they gonna get matching outfits for the next competition?!?!?! _

 

Otabek set the phone down, trying very hard not to smile. Instead he tugged his boyfriend to his feet. “You have had several years to get used to the fans. They’ll calm down soon.” 

 

Yuri sighed, but let Otabek tug him over to the living room to sit on the sofa. “They are so freaking weird…” the Russian grumbled, flopping down next to his boyfriend. Otabek reached up and ran his fingers through Yuri’s hair. The blond’s eyes closed as he hummed happily. “That feels good,” he murmured, tilting his head to the side to give him better access to his scalp. The TV flickered on, and Otabek pulled up Netflix so that they could watch something. Yuri knew Japanese, he’d had to live there for two years to get Victor as his coach, but Otabek spoke very little Japanese at all, so they stuck to Russian TV. 

 

Yuri cracked one eye open as Otabek picked some action movie that Yuri didn’t know, happy to just sit and watch. The two of them enjoyed the quiet, Yuri slowly turning into a happy puddle. 

 

“Mrow!”

 

Both men looked down to see a large, fluffy cat sitting on the ground, looking at Yuri and Otabek with wide, sad blue eyes. “Mrow!” 

 

“Alright Sasha, stop whining.” Yuri muttered, his fond tone belying his gruff words. He reached down and scooped up the cat and set her on his lap. He scratched behind Sasha’s ears, making the cat purr, as Otabek returned to running his fingers through Otabek’s hair. Yuri noticed his boyfriend smiling, and he stuck his tongue out. “I’m still badass.”

 

“I did not say anything different.” Otabek responded, only the small sparkle in his eye showing that he was teasing. Yuri rolled his eyes and nudged him in the stomach, but happily relaxing back against Otabek and letting him run his fingers through his hair. Otabek made sure they were both comfortable, then hit play on the movie again. 

 

The three figures on the couch enjoyed the calm together. After about an hour or so, Yuri roused himself enough to check his email. “Oh, hey, the Grand Prix Series assignments are out.” 

 

Otabek paused the movie, turning himself to look over Yuri’s shoulder. “Where are they sending you?”

 

Yuri scrolled down through the email. “I’m at the Trophee de France and the NHK Trophy…” Yuri read over it again and scowled. “You’re at Skate America and the Cup of China. Damn.” 

 

“We’ll see each other at the Final.” Otabek stated, utterly calm and confident. Yuri turned and smiled up at him. It was true--the past three years, they had both made it to the Grand Prix Final, and had traded places on the podium a couple of times. 

 

“And even if I did not make it into the competition, I would come to watch you.” Otabek added, a small smile on his face. 

 

Yuri knew that he was bright red, so instead of responding, he leaned forward and kissed Otabek hard. 

 

Sasha jumped down from the couch, padding away in a tiff at the loss of her nice warm lap.

~

 

_ Yuri sighed as he got off the plane. Balancing family, college, and practice was exhausting, especially when they were in different countries. Right now, he was ready to kill for some coffee. Victor basing himself in Hasetsu was a pain, because getting there was a pain in the neck. Victor was fucking lucky that there were online degree programs and that, when he wasn’t being an idiot, he was a damn good coach. _

 

_ At least he had been able to go home for his and Grandpa’s birthday. It had been a funny coincidence that they had been born a day apart, but whenever they could the two of them would make blinis and watch trash television to celebrate.  _

 

_ Right now though, he was tired and hungry and just wanted to flop over. His head was pounding from being stuck next to a screaming two-year-old for the last two and a half hours, and he’d had to wait at Narita for an extra hour because the airline had misplaced his bag.    _

 

_ Thankfully he didn’t have any problems with customs or baggage claim, and he stomped through the airport towards the arrivals area. Everyone was chatting way too excitedly, and it wasn’t helping Yuri’s mood. Victor had said someone was coming to pick him up, so Yuri braced himself for either the Victor-and-Yuri show, or Minami’s over-exuberance. Or, heavens forbid, Minako’s insanity.  _

 

_ Maybe the Nishigoris were feeling merciful? _

 

_ He walked through the doors, seeing signs for family members and arriving business men. He scanned over the crowd, wondering who was picking him up...and caught sight of a pair of dark eyes.  _

 

_ Otabek. Otabek was standing the middle of the crowd in the small Kyuushuu Saga town airport, with a sign that simply read ‘Yuri Plisetsky’ in Cyrillic, looking entirely at ease.  _

 

_ Yuri froze, then realized he was smiling. “What are you doing here?” He called as he ran over, and before he could help himself, he threw his arms around Otabek. The other man returned the hug, then let Yuri go, a small smile on his face.  _

 

_ “My coach made a deal with Victor so I could train here for a few weeks. She said it would be good to get some feedback from someone new about my routines.”  _

 

_ “Awesome! That’s great!” Yuri couldn’t have stopped the smile spreading across his face if he wanted to. They walked out of the airport, and the wind whipped past, cutting through Yuri’s clothes. The blond shivered, though he maintained that it still wasn’t as cold as Russia.  _

 

_ “By the way, Happy Birthday,” Otabek stated, hands in his jacket pockets before he pulled out a small box.  _

 

_ “You didn’t have to get me anything.” Yuri protested, even as he snagged the box. Otabek shrugged, the same small smile dancing across his lips. “I wanted to.” _

 

_ Yuri carefully opened the box as they made their way to the parking garage, and laughed when he saw what it was. “It looks just like Sasha!” He exclaimed as he held up the cat phone-charm, quickly attaching it before tucking the box away.  _

 

_ “I’m glad you like it.” _

 

_ Blue eyes looked up, and Yuri swallowed hard as he put his phone away. The air felt almost charged as they walked towards the parking garage. Otabek helped him stuff his suitcase into the trunk of the tiny rental car, and then they both climbed in. Yuri took a deep breath, suddenly nervous, and spoke before Otabek could turn the key.  _

 

_ “You know, I’m eighteen now.”  _

 

_ Otabek paused, hand on the ignition, then turned to Yuri. “I know.”  _

 

_ “...do you still want to date me or not?!” Yuri finally snapped, then blushed at how rude that had sounded. Stupid Japan making him feel bad about that! He was still badass dammit! _ __  
  


_ Otabek blinked, apparently surprised. Then he nodded, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks as well.  _

 

_ “Good.” _

 

_ Before he could talk himself out of doing it, Yuri leaned across the center console and kissed Otabek. The angle wasn’t the best, but it was warm and right and made Yuri’s heart beat faster and as stupid and cliche as it was, the kiss was perfect.  _

 

_ Otabek froze for a moment, then kissed back, his hand coming up to cup Yuri’s cheek. They separated after a few minutes, both blushing and grinning brightly. Yuri took Otabek’s hand and braced himself. “Wanna be my boyfriend?” _

 

_ “I would like that.” Otabek glanced at the clock. “We’re not expected until evening. Would you like to get lunch now?” _

 

_ He was tired, and hungry, and his head still hurt, but there was no way in hell he was going to turn down the date he’d been thinking about (hoping for) for the last two years. _

 

_ “That sounds fantastic!” Yuri replied enthusiastically. Otabek smiled, a real, full smile, and turned on the car to start driving, though he didn’t let go of Yuri’s hand until they had driven out of the parking garage.  _

_ ~ _

 

Yuri finished his stretches and began moving through his warm-up sequence in the hall. Emil Nekola was happily chatting with Phichit (Yuuri had provided some embarrassing college photos to Yuri--vengeance was sweet!), while Leo de la Iglesia talked calmly with Minami, who looked terrified about his first Grand Prix Final. A few cameramen from various international sports channels were wandering around, getting a few clips of the warm-ups. 

 

“Now remember not to under-rotate the quad loop, and don’t forget that last back-step in your step sequence!” Victor reminded, surprisingly focused right before the competition. 

 

Granted, that was probably because Yuuri had gone to refill water bottles. 

 

“I know, I know, I’ve done this before!” Yuri snapped, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair. The stylist would kill him if he messed up his braids this close to the competition. 

 

Victor patted his head, lightly enough that it wouldn’t mess up his hair. “There’s no reason to be nervous Yuri!”

 

Yuri elected to ignore Victor, instead moving through the parts of the short program routine he could practice off the ice. 

 

“Hello Otabek!” Victor suddenly called, and Yuri paused to look over. The Kazakhstani man had just walked in, giving a quick wave and shooting Yuri a smile. 

 

“Plisetsky, Altin, a question!” One of the reporters called, and Yuri turned to scowl at him. The man didn’t seem to know that he should be cowed by the glare. “Will your relationship make it more difficult to compete against each other today?”

 

Yuri snorted. “Don’t be stupid. I wouldn’t be dating someone who wasn’t going to give their all to a competition. Whichever one of us gets the gold, it’ll be because it was earned.”

 

“You seem very confident that one of you will receive gold!”

 

Yuri just grinned, then turned away to finish warming up when the reporter switched his focus to Leo. Otabek smoothly stepped up next to him, dropping to the ground to begin stretching. “May the best skater win the gold?”

 

“Loser makes dinner for the next week,” Yuri retorted, unzipping his jacket. His costume was deep violet with black and gold accents, and small rhinestones scattered along the torso. It actually reminded him of the short program costume he’d borrowed from Victor, three years ago, except way cooler. 

 

Otabek glanced around, seeing that by now the reporters had been shooed out of the warm up area, and leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Yuri’s lips. “Good luck.” He murmured, eyes warm. 

 

Yuri felt himself relaxing, and smiled back. Anyone else and he would’ve told them where they could stick their luck, but in this case…

 

“You too.”

~

 

The programs were finished. The scores had been announced, and the winners were on the podium. Yuri bowed his head as the silver medal was hung around his neck, and couldn’t help but grin as the gold was awarded to Otabek. 

 

Sure, of course he’d wanted the gold, but Otabek had earned it with his free skate. 

 

Emil, bronze medal shiny against his dark costume, quickly pulled the three of them together. “We need to get photos!” He yelled, practically bouncing as he got ahold of his phone. Phichit, Leo, and Minami were all cheering and clapping with the crowd. They had all skated well this year, and Worlds was coming up anyways. Yuri couldn’t wait.

 

Otabek smiled shyly at Yuri, clearly excited but unable to fully show it. Yuri grinned at the faint blush on his cheeks and took his hand as they walked away from the ice. “Good job. You earned it,” he murmured. Otabek’s smile grew wider, and he blushed a bit harder, and Yuri really just wanted to kiss him.

 

_ Eh, what the hell,  _ he decided. He stopped, turned, and caught Otabek in a warm kiss, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. The crowd cheered even louder, and he could hear Phichit squealing in the background, but he couldn’t have cared less. 

 

When he finally pulled back, they were both panting, but Otabek’s smile had grown even wider. 

 

“Yuri, you do know that the cameras caught that, right?” Emil piped up from behind them. 

 

The Russian’s eyes widened, glancing at the camera crew, before Victor and Yuuri seemed to pop out of nowhere, and Yuuri was definitely smirking. “Huh, maybe it’s a Russian thing. It’s good to see you emulating your mentor though!” He joked, eyes glittered. 

 

Yuri lunged at the Japanese man as Otabek laughed. Even as he noogied Katsuki mercilessly, he decided that was the best sound he’d ever heard. 

~

 

Phichit sent the photo to them. It was from the celebratory dinner after the Grand Prix. Both skaters had changed into formal clothes, and were standing by the bar, getting drinks. Otabek and Yuri were looking at each other like they were the only people in the room. Yuri’s eyes were soft, and Otabek was actually smiling. 

 

_ >I won’t put this one on Instagram ;)  _

 

Yuri would never, ever tell Phichit in a million years, but he made that photo his background on his home screen. 

~

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope all of you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you!


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